


We're Going to the Chapel

by fluidtime



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1610579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluidtime/pseuds/fluidtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean decides Sam needs a trip to Vegas. Sam marries Gabriel while drunk. Sam/Gabriel with a side of Meg/Castiel.</p><p>"With you I’m signing up for hot sex and sweet kisses and you pulling pranks, and me holding you tight. Maybe us getting drunk again, sipping bordeaux in a bubble bath, and me pressing chaste lips against your collar, and you, smelling amazing. You always smell like fresh bread."</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Going to the Chapel

* * *

" _Because we're going to the chapel and we're gonna get married._ "

\--  
The Dixie Cups  
Chapel of Love

* * *

  


Sam has been broody and moody for days because “angels don’t do relationships” according to Gabriel. At first he thought it was an excuse, an easier way to reject his advances without hurting his feelings, but Castiel later confirmed that angels don’t, in fact, have romantic relationships with anyone, human or not.

 

After hearing that, Sam shut up before Cass could ask him why he had been asking, and instead left the dingy motel room to look for the nearest bar. Of course Dean was already there and so they spent the rest of the night together, hustling pool and not talking about their feelings.

 

Sam didn’t know if it was worse knowing that he simply wasn’t on Gabriel’s radar at all, but what he did know is he still liked the bastard. He still wanted to be around him, still wanted to kiss him, taste him. He still thought about the angel before falling asleep and when lost in a distracting day-dream. Angels might not do “relationships,” but Sam doesn’t do casual. So when he thinks that maybe he’ll try to be friends with some awesome benefits, he quickly pushes it from his mind because he know’s he’ll only get hurt in the end.

 

The thing is, he can’t even be mad at Gabriel. It’s not his choice, it’s some weird angel-biology that prevents them from being together. He’s just pissed at the situation and that’s what leads to him sulking in the corner of their hotel room for days on end, silent when they’re driving the long distances in the Impala, and generally not being a very fun person to be around.

 

Sam know’s he’s been in a sour mood, so when Dean says, “that’s it, we’re going to Vegas. I need to kick this mopey crap out of you and if it takes copious amounts of alcohol and hookers to do that, I will be willing to make the sacrifice,” it’s not a surprise.

 

And Sam says yes because he really needs to get over this fucking angel.

 

* * *

 

They’re driving across some bit of Nevada on their way to the city of sin when they pull into a small gas station to fill up and grab some snacks. As Dean peruses the narrow aisles, picking up trail mix and gummies,  he runs into Castiel and Gabriel and Meg.

 

He sighs.

 

“Whatever it is, it can wait. Sam and I are taking a little vacation.”

 

“We know, we heard. That’s why were here,” Meg informs him, picking a bag of chips off the wall and tossing it with the rest of the food Dean had selected. “We want to join in on the fun.”

 

He frowned. “No can do, this is brotherly bonding. No one else allowed. And since when did you three start to hang out together, anyway?”

 

“We don’t,” Meg stated, “Castiel and I here were just having a chat about your plans to visit the Strip when this guy showed up,” she jabbed a thumb back at Gabriel, “ to talk to his brother. Of course he overheard and suggested we join you. Personally I like a little fun in my life, so I thought ‘hey, let’s do it’ and here we are.”

 

Dean blinked before shifting his weight and extending an arm. “Okay, no. This trip is for me and Sam. Only. No god squad and their little pet.”

 

“It’s a free country Dean,” Gabriel smiled. “There’s nothing you can do to prevent us from going to Vegas.”

 

The chime on the door jingled  and Sam walked in, nodding to the half-asleep attendant and strolling over to his brother. He opened his mouth to ask “what’s taking you so long,” but changed it quickly to “what’s going on,” when he noticed the group before him.

 

“They’re trying to gate-crash our party.”

 

“Not trying,” Gabriel tsk-ed, “we have gate-crashed your party.”

 

* * *

 

Dean drove the Impala with Sam to his right, flicking through the box of tapes, trying to find something that everyone (including himself) would enjoy.

 

The other three were crammed in the back, Meg squished between the two angels and getting along surprisingly well with Gabriel. Her hand rested on Castiel’s thigh as the angel stared out of the window, watching the scenery fly past and thinking about the inefficiency of cars.

 

It was dark by the time the five of them pulled onto Las Vegas Boulevard, the bright city lights standing out and guiding their way.

 

“Let’s stay at the Venetian,” Gabriel suggested, and nobody argued because nobody had a better idea. And when they pulled out their bags, walking into the hotel and marvelling at the decorative interior, Gabriel strolled towards the service desk telling everyone to “wait here, I can get us the penthouse suite.”

 

* * *

 

The room was fucking bomb. Beautiful, ornate furniture, soft beds and a jacuzzi bathtub. Even Dean murmured something about getting used to living like this. They shoved their various suitcases and duffel bags in random corners and on random surfaces, just trying to get it out of the way before exploring for a bit.

 

“Alright, let’s hit the Strip!” Gabriel yelled after not too long, materializing money out of this air and handing each person a thick stack of one-hundreds. “I don’t want to see any of you back in this room until you’ve spent all of that cash. Of course,” he said while handing Dean his wad of bills, “that rule is exempt if you’re coming back here with a lovely lady on your arm.”

 

Dean snatched the cash, sneering at the angel, but not saying anything. All in all, Gabriel was being a good sport. Them showing up could have gone a lot worse, and at least no one would have to worry about running out of fun tonight. There would even be enough alcohol available to get the holy trinity over there drunk, and that was pretty impressive.

 

* * *

 

They got down to the casino and had the time of their lives.

 

* * *

 

For the most part they stuck together, rotating from the poker tables to roulette, to slots, and then back to black jack, laughing and forgetting about the end of the world. They occasionally talked and flirted with the other patrons and eventually Dean strode past the party, a girl on each arm, and tossed his remaining hundreds to Gabriel.

 

“I’m checking in early tonight,” he winked, and Sam was surprised that he was even able to walk after seeing how many shots his brother had downed earlier.

 

The threesome sauntered off and Meg was stifling a giggle behind her hand, glancing at a clock on the wall. It was getting into the wee hours of morning.

 

“I’m done with gambling, let’s hit the bar,” she suggested (as if any of them needed more alcohol) and grabbed Castiel’s hand, pulling him over to a dimly lit table in a corner of one of the many interior drinking spaces, and flagging down a waitress to bring them more drinks.

 

Sam and Gabriel followed, but instead of joining them commandeered a pair of stools and a high table for two across the room. Gabriel just materialized beer for them.

 

“I thought angels didn’t do relationships,” Sam said, words heavy and slurred together, eyes locked on Castiel and Meg, whose fingers were slowly stroking up the angel’s leg, her other hand entwined with his, lips ghosting over bent knuckles.

 

“We don’t,” Gabriel said, equally as plastered. Following Sam’s gaze he sighed. “They’re… different.”

 

“Because she’s a demon?” he asked.

 

“Kind of,” Gabriel responded.

 

They sat like that for awhile, both finishing off their bottles and starting another round, watching their two friends slowly fall in love, small, innocent touches here and there, the occasional whispers between them.

 

Castiel reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her face, and his palm rested on her cheek. She leaned into his touch and before the angel could think, he dipped his head, lips meeting hers, slowly exploring the soft touch of her tongue.

 

You would think that a kiss with a demon would be rough and searing, but this was slow and so full of emotion and feeling and longing. Sam blushed and looked away, fiddling with his beer bottle and suddenly feeling as if he were intruding on something private.

 

“I wish I could kiss you like that,” he mumbled and, wow, he must be really drunk if he just said that out loud.

 

His cheeks were on fire, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look up at Gabriel’s reaction. He kind of wanted to just die in that moment.

 

“I wish you could too, Sam,” their eyes met, “I love you so much.”

 

Sam couldn't think. The alcohol was fogging his judgement something awful and he’s pretty sure he just heard Gabriel say that he loves him, so he surges forward and grabs the back of the angel’s head and pulls him into a kiss, lurching over the table and knocking a couple of beers over.

 

He tries to focus and make the kiss good and warm, but Sam knows he’s drunk and it’s wet and sloppy and he thinks he may have stuck his tongue in too far and if Gabriel smites him, at least he won’t have to live through the embarrassment of being the archangel’s worst kiss ever.

 

So he just pulls away and waits. He blinks at Gabriel, who just looks back at him, slightly shocked and also not used to processing through the mental cloud of fifty shots.

 

Sam starts rambling because he’s drunk and he’s nervous and all he wants to do is set things right, and his mouth won’t listen to him no matter how many times he repeats “shut up, Sam” in his head.

 

“I love you too and I’ll love you until the end of time Gabriel, just let me make you happy. Fuck, I’ll marry you, right now. It’s Vegas after all, let’s just go and tie the knot because I’ll never be over you. I’ve tried to move on and I can’t. I’ll be yours forever whether or not you want me, but-”

 

He was cut off with another kiss.

 

“Yes, Sam Winchester, I will marry you.”

 

* * *

 

Light poured through the large window of the penthouse suite because nobody had thought to close the curtains last night, but the morning glow didn’t disturb anyone. Meg and Cass were cuddled on the sofa, sleeping off their drunk haze, her head tucked perfectly under her unicorn’s chin, his arms wrapped around, holding his beauty close.

 

It was a light sleep because they didn’t really need the rest, but had instead passed out when the weight of tequila and champagne became too much. They stirred when Dean entered the room, stretching and leading his two ladies from last night, out. They each pecked him on the cheek and giggled before thanking him for the night and slipping their phone number under the door once it had closed.

 

He turned around and faced the couple, not bothering to wipe the grin off his face.

 

“Where are Sam and Gabriel?”

 

Cass frowned. “I don’t know. They left the bar before we did, I assumed they would be back by now.”

 

All three pairs of eyes looked at the closed doors to the second bedroom of the suite. As if on cue, a frazzled Gabriel stumbled from the room, attempting to shut the door quietly behind him.

 

“I need to talk to you,” Gabriel mumbled, physically grabbing the lapel of Castiel’s trench coat, and pulling him from Meg’s embrace to a corner of the room.

 

He looked at his younger brother, took a breath, and blurted, “I married Sam last night.”

 

Castiel’s eyes had never gone wider, his jaw dropping a hair. “You what?”

 

* * *

 

The minute Sam woke up was the minute he decided he would rather not be alive. His body ached, his head pounded and he felt as if his stomach might empty itself at any moment. Burying himself under soft duvet and feather pillows, he squinted his eyes shut and tried to remember last night. It came to him in blurry flashes, eerily reminiscent of seeing your body through possession. Sam remembered kissing Gabriel, and watching Meg and Cas. He remembered beating Dean’s ass at five card draw and buying a Tiffany engagement ring with his winnings, and shit.

 

He reached down to feel his left hand, sure enough finding a gold band on his finger.

 

He groaned, and then regretted it, vibrations coursing through his skull. Of course he would do this, fuck everything up. He couldn’t even let go of a crush, and now he’s married to a being that doesn’t do relationships, let alone marriage.

 

And they’ll have to get an annulment, but that’s not even the worst part because even though he literally just married an angel the same night of their first kiss, and he knew that was moving pretty god damn fast, a part of him didn’t want to let Gabriel go. And if he thought getting over him was difficult before, it was going to be impossible now.

 

He got up, downed a half dozen IBUprofen and five glasses of water, and sulked.

 

Why couldn’t things just go his way? Why couldn’t he be happy and married to Gabriel? Why couldn’t the angel just love him back? Was he that destined to live a lonely life?

 

Eventually the painkillers kicked in, and he found enough motivation shower and dress himself before heading out into the living room.

 

* * *

 

“But what if he doesn’t want me? Cass, he’s only human, I can’t hold him to everything he said last night. This is forever. Humans are pretty historically horrible at grasping that concept.”

 

“I suppose there is not much else to do at this point except see what his reaction is.”

 

In that moment Sam Winchester himself pushed open the large bedroom doors, and stepped out, joining everyone in the main-room. All of their eyes landed on him, and he chuckled nervously and took a breath before meeting Gabriel’s eyes.

 

“So are we getting an annulment or what?”

 

He smiled, hoping that his joking nature hid the fact that he wanted to do anything but, however Gabriel just vanished as a loud “what” erupted from Dean’s mouth.

 

Castiel’s brow knitted together, and in a voice laced with sympathy, uttered Sam’s name.

 

Meg just chuckled. “You married yourself to an angel?” she said, incredulity abundantly apparent. “Oh Sam,” she tilted her head, “there’s no undoing that one.”

 

“You married him?” Dean squeaked at Sam, barely registering his brother’s half-nod before rounding on Castiel. “What does she mean there’s no ‘undoing that one’? I thought you freaks couldn’t even,” he waved his hands in front of himself, “whatever, you know?”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Castiel said.

 

“That idiot,” Dean began, pointing across the room at Sam, “has been moping around for weeks because we were told, by both you and Gabriel, that angels don’t date, or can’t date. It’s against nature or something. But now that he’s married one, suddenly they're stuck together? What, does that mean, like, forever? What does Meg mean, there’s no undoing that one?” He turned to Meg, “what do you mean?”

 

“Hey big boy, calm down.”

  
She turned her attention towards Sam. “If you’ve been in such a state about the little archangel not returning your feelings, why are you so eager to end the festivities now that you’ve got him hooked?”

 

Sam just shook his head wordlessly. This was a lot to process right now and he wasn’t exactly sure he understood what was happening.

 

Meg clicked her tongue. “Now that I think about it, what did you say to our little Gabe-ster to even get him to say yes?” She turned to Castiel, smiling softly, “he doesn’t seem like the type to settle down.”

 

“He’s not,” was Cass’ short reply.

 

“What happened last night, Sam?” Dean finally asked.

 

Sam had a hand through his hair, knotting it tightly. “I don’t really know. I’m confused as hell right now, and I think I need to talk to Gabriel. Where did he go? Cass?”

 

“I can not detect him if he wants to be hidden.”

 

“Try? Please.”

 

“Alright Sam.”

 

Castiel was surprised to find that Gabriel wasn’t hiding at all and he hadn’t gone far either. He seemed to be at the end of the hall, and when he told Sam this, the tall Winchester wasted no time, running out of their hotel room (not even grabbing a key card and ignoring his brother’s call) and sprinting down to the alcove where two vending machines were nestled.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel was sitting on the step down, eating a strawberry frosted pop-tart. He smiled, fondly remembering his brother’s love of the commercial treat and took another huge bite, willing himself not to think about what just happened.

 

Having the first words out of Sam’s mouth be a request for an annulment hurt him more than he expected them to. He had wanted Sam for so long, but knew that he had to keep his distance, not start anything, be a good angel. And dammit if that wasn’t what he had been doing! But the alcohol got mixed in, and apparently his judgement went out the window, but the funny thing was, when he woke up this morning, and Sam was still curled around him, the diamond on his finger reflecting the soft light of dawn, he wished, if just for a moment, that this wasn’t a mistake, and Sam could be happy and content to be with him, that they could wake up every morning like that, blithe and together.

 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice Sam approaching until he stood behind the angel, halfway whispering, “Gabriel.”

 

* * *

 

“Let’s follow him.”

 

“No, Meg.”

 

“I want to see what happens.”

 

“I myself am also curious as to the exchange between Gabriel and Sam.”

 

“No, this is personal and between them.”

 

“C’mon Dean, aren’t you a just a little curious?”

 

“We would not need to alert them to our presence.”

 

“...”

 

“Fine. But quietly. I do not want to get caught.”

 

* * *

 

“Sam?”

 

Gabriel stood up and turned around, making the pop-tart disappear with a wave of his hand. He was a step below Sam, which only made the height difference more striking, and in that moment Gabriel felt about as small as he ever had.

 

“Why did you marry me?” Sam asked, eyes wide and open. It wasn’t an accusation, there was no hidden meaning, just an earnest curiosity with a taste of desperation.

 

“I was drunk?” came Gabriel’s hesitant reply.

 

“Meg said I’m stuck with you now -- that I married an angel and, I don’t really know because this is a lot of new, but it sounded pretty permanent.”

 

“Yeah Sammy. When I told you that angels don’t do relationships, it’s because we can’t. We do a relationship. The one. For life, forever, until the end of everything. It’s why we can’t just casually date, because nothing’s casual with us. Sometimes we hitch up angel to angel, but we know what eternity is, we live it, we can grasp the concept. Humans can’t really, and so it’s a bit unfair to drag them, you, into it. I’m sorry, but you’re stuck as my husband, no take-backsies.”

 

“So why did you marry me? Why did you say yes?”

 

“Because I was drunk.” Gabriel bit his lip, turned away and turned back. “Because angels don’t really get intoxicated so we’re not used to having to be extra-aware that our decision making skills are severely impaired. And I’ve been harboring the worlds largest crush on you, so when you confessed your love and said that you would be with me eternally I believed it because it was everything that I’ve wanted and I’m tired of trying to ignore you and your advances and because I thought this was what you wanted.”

 

“It is,” and Sam stumbled forward, grasping Gabriel’s face in his hands and kissing with a sober mind, tongue raking over his hot mouth, trying to communicate a thousand times his devotion to this angel.

 

“I know forever, I know eternity, I know always. I jumped into the pit, the devil riding shotgun, knowing that i would be permanently trapped and tortured with no end in sight and I was at an odd peace because I knew what I was signing up for.

 

“Just like right now, just like here, with you. Only this time I’m signing up for hot sex and sweet kisses and you pulling pranks, and me holding you tight. Maybe us getting drunk again, sipping bordeaux in a bubble bath, and me pressing chaste lips against your collar, and you, smelling amazing. You always smell like fresh bread,” Sam buried his face in the crook of a very stunned Gabriel’s neck, and continued, “I want to wake up to this, to you, everyday, always. I know this one-hundred percent.

 

“If you’ll have me, and judging by the rings on both of our fingers you don’t have much choice,” Sam pulled back to lock eyes with Gabriel, “if you’ll have me I’ll never let go.”

 

Sam bent down for another kiss and Gabriel met him half-way. Open-mouthed, wet and obscene and easily the best kiss yet, sending tingles down their spines and raising goosebumps on their arms.

 

* * *

 

In the distance Meg “aww’ed” and Dean muttered “gross” while Castiel just stood and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic turned out a lot more dramatic than I initially intended it to. I hope I haven't made the characters too out of character here as a result.  
> Thank you for reading, and as always reviews are greatly appreciated. :) Have a great day yall!


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